Dancing Phoenix
by Comidia Del Arte
Summary: Only burned hands can tame something as wild as fire.Damara new that much, one cannot live in this world without being broken at least once. She had expirenced that much
1. Mata Del Anima Sola

The thudding beat of the drum, the strum of the Tambura the warmth of the fire closing in on my face. Opening my mouth I took the ball of fire into my mouth and put it out with a staggered breath. Taking that last lit torch I spun around, the bells on my dress jingling. Pulling a cartwheel I spun the torch with my fingers and then extinguished it like I had done with the first one. Hearing the jangle of coins landing in my uncle's hat I smiled and collected it.

Gillie, my older brother stood and snatched the hat from my hands "Only 2 gold pieces and 3 coppers."

Jal and I sighed. That wasn't enough to feed three people. That was hardly enough to get a decent meal for one person. And there was no way I was going to let Jal and Gillie, go hungry again just to feed me. Shaking my head I took the coins and pressed them into their hands. "Go get yourselves something to eat. I'll try to earn some more money."

The two men argued with me, "Damara, come on you need to eat something."

Taking the now empty hat I took off down the street. My uncle, brother and I, had come to Paris only a couple days ago, in the hopes of escaping the harsh winter in another part of Europe. Both my parents had been killed during an attack on our caravan, my uncle, brother and I were the only survivors of that night. We've been traveling together ever since.

Well the one up side do being a gypsy was a lack of crowding in the streets. People tended to make way for us, fearing that we would twist their minds, and rob them blind. Of course I was raised better than that. No matter how much I hungered I refused to steal something, well I would steal, if it was for someone else. My pride would never allow me to steal for myself.

I was about to turn down an alley when I noticed a small crowd of children gathering. Curious I followed the mass and found myself watching a puppet show. A small brightly clad hand puppet popped out and started to talk to the children. Then a man, which the puppet resembled, appeared and started to whack his puppet twin on the head. I laughed at the spectacle; one of the children in the back looked up at me and flinched. I sighed; let's just say I can't be called attractive. I had the typical black hair, and milk chocolate skin, I also had an unusual shade of slate grey eyes. But my hands were covered in old burns earned from several long hours of practice. There was also a half moon scar that caressed the right side of my face, a souvenir from the attack that stole my parents from me.

Going down on one knee I smiled at the little girl. She mirrored my expression nervously. Shaking my head I reached into the folds of my sash and pulled out a doll. It had golden yarn hair, black button eyes, and a green dress covered in mismatched bells. The child's eyes lit up with delight when I handed it to her. The bells jingled as she hugged it close to her body. Smiling I spoke in a mothering tone. "There is a story behind those bells little one. Whenever they jingle it strikes happiness into the coldest of hearts, it brings love to ones who are considered unlovable, and it puts out a saucer of milk for a starved street cat."

The child giggled and hugged me around the waist and ran off, holding the gift. Turning her head every once in a while to smile back at me. Suddenly a shadow was cast over me, my blood froze. The only word that flashed through my mind in that instant was, Guards. Reaching into the folds of my dress I snatched my knife and spun, only to meet the end of a sword. My eyes landed on a large black horse, flanked back two guards on each side. The rider of the beast was an older man, wearing the garb of a Judge. Slowly I stood and backed away, only to feel someone from behind push me forward roughly. "It would seem you were trying to push your heathen ways into the mind of that innocent child."

Out of all the gypsies in Paris, I believe I had the worst luck. Of all the guards in the city, of the entire close minded people in this city. I managed to attract the attention of Judge Frollo, the man that my uncle, brother and I had been advised to avoid. Looking around at the puppet show, I found the puppet man gone. Bowing my head I replied respectfully. "No, my lord, I was merely giving the child a gift."

No matter how hard I fought the sardonic remark. It burst from my mouth. "I do hope that my kindness will not be taken as an offense due to my heritage."

I bit my lower lip, hoping that by doing so I could snatch back the words. Of course there was no taking them back. "How dare you! Men arrest her!"

While the men drew closer I took out a bottle of straight up liquor and a book of matches. I only used matches for defense and distraction, due to the expense of them, since they were a new thing. Taking a mouthful of the foul drink I took a match and struck it against my cheek. Holding the open flame close to my mouth I spat out the alcohol, spewing flames in every direction, distracting Judge Frollo and his guards. Turning I ran, sliding under the legs of one of guards, adding more scrapes to my legs.

The guards had managed to regain their composure, and pursued me, with Judge Frollo yelling out orders at their backs. I felt as if my lungs were ready to explode, I think I stepped on a shard of glass. Hot sticky blood was running like sweat down my legs, and bloody footprints made it impossible for me to hide. As I was running past an ally a hand shot out and plucked me out of the street, I was about to shriek but the hand clamped itself around my mouth muffling the noise. Hearing the sound of hooves clicking on the pavement I froze against the stranger. The guards reported back to him. "Sorry sir. It would seem that she disappeared."

I could not see the reaction on the Judge's face. But from the way the Guards were recoiling in fear, I could only assume he was more than angry. The men seemed to relax when Frollo spoke in calmer voice. "Back to your duties, she is only one filthy gypsy."

The men nodded, and soon the streets were empty. The stranger was still gripping my mouth. Snarling I bit down on his hand, causing him to sweat swear and yank his hand away. Snatching my knife I held the blade to my captor's throat. It was the Puppet Master. Feeling a sharp sting in my foot I dropped my knife. Looking at the injury I groaned. I had sliced my foot open, and it was wonder I had been able to run on it. Feeling the gaze of the Puppet Master I looked up into his face. He still looked rather miffed at my biting him. Feeling a trickle of guilt for my action I apologized. "Sorry."

Satisfied with the apology, he broke the silence. "You should have not insulted the Judge in such a way."

Taking off my sash I ripped it into thirds. Wrapping a shred of it around one leg and then the other, then I wrapped my foot. It wouldn't take long for the scrapes and cuts to heal. Thankfully I was gifted with quick healing. "My derision is simply part of my charm."

I noticed the man looking at my hands, taking in the burns. "It is very rare for a woman to be a fire dancer, no?"

Pausing I looked up at him, through a curtain of black hair. "No."

Tying a knot in my makeshift bandages, I gripped the wall of the alley and stood slowly. My legs were fine, but when I put any weight on my foot, pain seared through my veins. The bandage would due until I was in the safe company of Jal and Gillie. Ignoring the man I walked down the street, keeping my eyes open for guards.


	2. Hidden Observer

Four months had passed since I had seen the Puppet Master. And two months ago, Jal was captured and hung in town square. Gillie and I were now truly alone in the world. All we had was each other. With Jal gone we had to split up more often to earn the same amount we were earning when he was still alive. It's rather funny that instead of following in my mother's footsteps, I took interest in my father's ways, while my brother took interest in my mother's talent. Right now I was in the middle of dancing, trying to imagine Gillie accompanying me with mother's old Tambura. I may not be as attractive as mother had been, but men were mere dogs, and a piece of meat, even bad piece was still meat in their eyes. So it did not surprise me that the crowd I was a attracting consisted of a good portion of men.

Spinning the chains, I started to roll backwards, as slowly as my body would permit. Pulling up suddenly I front flipped, cracking the fire onto the pavement, leaving cinders and sparks on the cobbled street. After landing on my feet, I took deep even breaths and lowered one of the blazing fire orbs into my mouth, and put it out. Extracting it I snatched up a small bottle of liquor, taking some into my mouth and then held my last chain close to my face, the crowd was in awe of the fire that I seemed to be breathing. After taking a quick swig of water from a second bottle, I quenched the fire like I did the first. Giving the crowd my most dazzling smile I bowed, while gently gesturing to my Uncle's old hat, which was on the ground. Coins, being thrown in could be heard. Once the mass had dispersed, only then did I stand.

Wiping beads of sweat from my forehead, I removed my head scarf from my waist, which I had put there to tie my hair down to keep the flames from catching it. After I had finished tying my scarf off, I picked up the hat and dumped its contents into the pouch hanging at my waist. Placing the hat on my head, I wrapped my fire chains around my midriff. The whole street seemed to be drenched in silence now, except for myself of course. I was about to leave to go find Gillie, but the clanging of the bells of Notre Dame caused me to halt. The music they made was so beautiful, so loud like crashing thunder, and yet so soft like a fresh spring rain.

Third Person:

Damara remained unaware of who was lurking in the shadows, unaware that for the past few months, she was being watched and sized up by the King of the Gypsies himself. He had been observing the Damara and Gillie since the hanging of their Uncle. Though gypsies never dared to be seen during a hanging, they remained in the shadows, mourning for their kin. Despite the fact Clopin did not know Jal, he watched anyway. And while doing so he saw Damara and Gillie hiding, and watching through tears.

Clopin had met the gypsy girl before the hanging, and even spoke to her. He had the bite mark to prove it, if it had not been for him. The little phoenix would have been taken to the Palace of Justice, to be tortured and possibly raped. The girl had talent, as well as her brother. But her talent was rare among women. And it could put bread on the table, if she became more open to the crowds she attracted. Clopin could see that the girl was shy, but if he put her in the company of Esmeralda. Perhaps she could attract just as much attention as his adopted sister.

The little phoenix was about to depart to find her brother. But at the sound of the bells of Notre Dame, she stopped and stared up a bell tower, in a state of admiration and awe. Clopin skirted around the shadows, hoping to get a better look at her face. The girl was rare beauty, despite the scars and burns on her body. She walked with a dancer's grace; it was obvious she did not find herself anywhere near attractive. It was made even more obvious, when she kept her face down, and avoided eye contact with people. Clopin studied the girl's face. And he made his decision; he would welcome the little phoenix and her brother into his court. Just as she was about to turn and leave, Clopin stepped out of the shadows.


	3. Followed

Damara:

My breath hitched in my throat, when a figure stepped out of the shadows. I could not see him very clearly at first. I tipped my head to the side, in order to get a better look, it was the Puppet Master. My brother never missed the opportunity to tell me I look like a bird studying a mouse when I did that. He also liked to point out the fact I looked like a village idiot when I did it while wearing Uncle's old hat. "What is your name, pretty one?"

I scowled at the word pretty, I was anything but that. And any stranger, who said otherwise, either wanted something or was blind. The Puppet Master's eyes were black as coal. Not clouded by blindness. So the only suggestion to his misdirected comment was that he wanted something. My muscles froze at the thought of what it could be. "Is there something you want? Because telling me untrue things will make me even more reluctant to hear you out."

The Puppet Master raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I wasn't lying about anything little phoenix."

My eyes narrowed. "Well if you don't mind I need to be on my…"

He interrupted me. "My name is Clopin."

Nodding I muttered. "That's nice, but if you'll excuse me I need to go find my brother before it gets dark."

His eyes held interest. "Do you not like the dark, little phoenix?"

This man's continues chatter was really starting to bother me. I needed to meet my brother before the guards made their nightly rounds. Or bad things would happen. Giving the street a shifty sweep, I replied. "I don't mind the dark so much as the unkindness done to gypsies in the dark. Monsieur I really do need to go, my brother is waiting for me."

Clopin, at least I think that's his name. Came closer and smiled. "You know, you could at least give me your name?"

Not making eye contact I mumbled. "Damara Lovell."

Feeling something touch my chin, my eyes were forced upwards to look into the Puppet Master's. "You know, you have a pretty face, you should let your audience see it."

My blood froze in fear; I did not like being touched by strangers. I slashed out at him like a snake. Clopin yanked his hand back, looking angry. But then the smile returned to light up his features. Glaring I turned and walked off down the streets. Hearing the jingling of bells, I glanced to the side. This man would not let me be. I hoped that by ignoring him, maybe he would lose interest and disappear. Sadly that did not become the case.

I found my brother down the alley we had agreed to meet in this morning. When I reached Gillie, he looked at me and then Clopin. "I see you've made a new friend little sister."

Not responding I walked down the alley. Inclining my head I motioned for my brother to follow me, in the hopes of finding a safe place for the night. Hearing some whispering, I glanced around to find Gillie and Clopin talking. Gillie nodded and then glanced at me. Clopin stood up right and started to leave. Gillie got up and grabbed my wrist, pulling me along.

We managed to reach Clopin's puppet cart just as the sun was setting. Unlocking it, Clopin ushered us in and closed the door. In a few seconds the cramped cart was lighted dimly by candles. Taking a seat on a trunk in the corner, I eyed my brother and Clopin. Drawing my knees to my chin, I focused my eyes on one of the lit candle wicks. The lids of my eyes began to droop, before long I gave into my exhaustion and let sleep carry me away.

Third Person:

At the sound of gentle snore, Clopin glanced over at the trunk, only to find Damara passed out on it. Gillie turned and smiled fondly at his sister and then looked back at Clopin. "Your sister is rather interesting, no?"

The masked man handed him an apple, and watched him while he ate it. "I suppose you could say that." Gillie stated between bites. "She is a tough little cretin."

Clopin grimaced, while gesturing to his now ungloved hand. A rather large bite mark marred the flesh between his thumb and pointer finger. "Oui, I noticed that when she tried to take hunk of flesh from my hand."

Gillie pulled a guilty face. "Sorry, she tends to do that when she feels threatened."

Hearing a light groan, the two men glanced over at the sleeping figure. In the candle light Damara seemed older, and thinner. Clopin took in the large scar on her face and looked at Gillie. "Where did she get the scar?"

Gillie stiffened, and sighed as if the memory tired him. "When I was sixteen and Damara was twelve, our clan was attacked by some religious leaders, and a few townspeople. One of the men tried to touch our youngest cousin; Damara got angry and tried to defend her. The man slashed her across the face with a dull knife. Our aunt, two cousins, mother, and father died that night. I'm not even sure if Damara remembers it at all. I tried to talk to her about it. But she remains silent on the subject. Damara was never much of a talker anyway."

Clopin nodded. "You and she are both very talented. How do you plan to survive the winter?"

Gillie shook his head. "Right now we are concerned with the here and now, surviving winter will just have to wait."

Damara started to shiver slightly in her corner of the cart. Gillie sighed, stood and placed his ratty cloak on his sister. Clopin could see a perfect opportunity. "She could become very sick if you two do not find a permanent residence."

Gillie sighed and moved a stray hair out of his sister's closed eyes. "There is safety in numbers."

Clopin stated as he walked up behind the younger man. "I know such a place, where you and your sister will be safe at night. There is warmth, food and protection. All you two need to do is contribute to its growth."

The younger man turned and spoke. "Does this safe haven have a name?"

Smiling at the boy's interest, Clopin nodded. "We call it the Court Of Miracles."


	4. Method to My Silence

The two men sat and talked, while Damara continued to sleep. Clopin explained the payment for living in the Court of Miracles. As long as Damara and Gillie could put bread on the table for their brethren, they were welcome within the Court's walls. Gillie listened carefully, making sure that his fellow gypsy was keeping his word, watching for any hint of a lie within the Puppet Master's eyes. He could find now falsehood in the coal black eyes. Clopin fell silent, watching the boy. "I assume we have an accord?"

Gillie gave his sister another glance and nodded, extending his hand to shake Clopin's. Clopin shook heartily, a jester's smile showing a chip in one of his teeth. "Well, we better go, or the others will worry."

Before Gillie could stop him, Clopin placed his hand on Damara's shoulder and shook it slightly. Her sleeping form jumped and a knife was in her hands within mere seconds. Clopin leapt back, grabbing Damara's wrist in the process, trying to relieve her of the weapon. Gillie stood and took Damara's face gently in his hands ignoring her continues struggling, pressing their foreheads together. "Sister, it's ok, you're safe. No pain, no danger."

The words spoken to the gypsy girl calmed her, and she fell limp in Clopin's grip. Seeing that she was calm, Clopin let go. The little phoenix was rather jumpy, he thought. He watched as Damara returned her knife to the sheath around her thigh. Slowly she spared Clopin a glance, and then looked down in shame. Gillie looked upon her with pity. Damara had a habit of not knowing where she was after the first few seconds of waking up even as a child. This had not been a problem in her early childhood that is until they started living on the streets. Despite the fact that it caused her to be dangerous, it was a good defense if anyone tried to hurt Damara while she slept.

Clopin sat off to the side while Gillie relayed their former deal to his sister. Damara listened intently, sometimes eyeing Clopin, as if to satisfy her own uncertainties about the stranger. Clopin took notice of the siblings' eye color. Both of them shared the same gray eyes; except for the flecks of color that decorated their irises. Damara had shards of soft jade in her eyes, while her brother had azure speckles in his. Despite that, both shared many physical features, making it very obvious that they were brother and sister. They could have been twins if it weren't for the palpable age difference.

Once again not even a word passed Damara's lips. Clopin was becoming even more curious, when he had ran into her the first time. She spoke normally, but now, it was as if she was some sort of mute. He watched as Gillie took her hands and smiled at her, asking for her to agree to the proposition of the Puppet Master. Giving Clopin one last look over, she turned, squeezed her brother's hands and nodded. Gillie hugged his sister and looked at Clopin, giving him a nod. Standing, Clopin smiled. "Well then we should be going!"

The trio managed to make it through the city without much trouble. Clopin forged ahead, sometimes looking back to make sure the siblings were following. He felt his eyebrows rise when the glint of a knife caught his eye. Damara held out the blade, her eyes shifting quickly and yet somehow calmly. Her brother however, held no weapon; he did however keep a careful eye on Clopin. He wondered if the girl had the knife out because she expected guards to jump out and snatch her, or did she simply not trust him. Clopin's eyebrows knitted slightly, why did this girl talk so rarely in the presence of her brother?

After they had reached the graveyard, Clopin fell back to join the others. "Gillie, I need you to scout ahead to make sure we do not run into any dangers."

Gillie seemed resistant, but after Damara gave him quick look, he took her knife and went on ahead. Turning the girl spoke, her voice rough from its lack of use. "Do you want something from me?"

Clopin blinked, but nodded. "You avoid talking when around your brother. Why is that?"

Damara looked up ahead and then back at Clopin. "I don't understand why you want to know something that does not affect you in anyway. My choosing to not talk when in the company of my brother is none of your affair."

Clopin's lips parted, and he chuckled. "When you do speak, you do so a lot."

To his surprise the little phoenix smiled. It lit up her features slightly, but it left just as quickly as it had come. "I do so, so that you will leave this subject alone. It is rude to pry into the business of strangers."

Shrugging Clopin replied without missing a beat. "I'm a gypsy after all. What need do I have of manners?"

Another smile appeared "So that you don't run risk of having a stranger beat you for prying into their personal concerns."


	5. Proper Introductions

The smile was gone, showing that it was a badly veiled threat. After a moment of silence, Clopin looked away deciding to drop the subject. He could handle being smacked across the face. But something told him this girl would do more than that if he didn't back off. He was about to ask another question, when Gillie returned. It was as if the fire had gone out from Damara, when her brother gave her a loving look. "How do you fair Damara, you look unhappy?"

Clopin ignored Gillie and walked on ahead. He managed to catch a look at Damara, she did look rather angry. There was no doubt in Clopin's mind that he had caused her change in mood. Behind him Damara merely shook her head and took back her knife, following Clopin further into the cemetery and closer to the entrance to the Court of Miracles. When they reached the entrance the gypsies checked around to make sure there were not being spied upon. Gesturing for Gillie to help remove the stone slate from the entrance, Clopin offered his hand to Damara as a gentleman should. But she ignored it and stepped into the darkness, without the slightest bit of hesitation. Gillie shrugged at Clopin and leapt into the depths of the crypt. Clopin followed, pausing to close the tomb.

Looking around to where the siblings had gone, he found Damara holding a lit torch in her left hand while her right hand still carried the knife. Walking over to her, Clopin extended his hand for the torch. Damara looked up at him, the light causing her to look gaunt. It wasn't unattractive to Clopin however it was not particularly flattering either. But her eyes became suddenly alluring in a way. In the firelight the jade shards embedded on the mass of slate gray, seemed to jump more. Clopin found himself starring, causing Damara to become slightly agitated and self conscious. Becoming fed up with being starred at; she placed her knife in her mouth, and thumped Clopin on the forehead. Rubbing his head, Clopin glared at Damara, who shrugged, her eyebrows raised slightly. Gesturing to the torch she pulled a 'duh' face and held it out so Clopin would take it. Gillie watched the whole display with raised eyebrows, his sister only acted that way to him. She was normally shy around strangers; he had noticed this in their travels. At times Damara refused to even acknowledge the people they met.

Clopin gave Damara one final look, and then he continued to lead the group on through the dark catacombs. As they descended further into the tunnel their feet were met with squelching sound. Damara met the muck with a snort of disgust; she was already missing the world above with a passion. When Clopin looked over his shoulder at her, she dropped the revolted look from her face. Damara felt she had to prove something to this man; she didn't want him viewing her as a weak willed fool. Looking back at him, she gave him a smile. Feeling the need to provoke Damara, Clopin chuckled and prodded "What do think of my Court so far, little phoenix?"

Gillie paused and looked at Clopin in confusion "Your Court?"

Smirking, Clopin spun dramatically and cried out. "How rude of me, I did not properly introduce myself, did I? Well allow me to do so now!" Sweeping his hat elegantly from his head, Clopin bowed. "I am King of the Gypsies! Puppet Master! Master of Ceremonies! My name is Clopin Trouillefou!"

Smiling he placed his hat back on his head and then he grabbed Damara's hand, kissing it gently. "And who might you be, lady whose grace is only comparable to the fire that you wield?"

Despite herself, Damara found that she was staggered and blushing. Gillie however did not understand Clopin's game. "But I thought we told you our names?"

Clopin laughed a jester's laugh, still holding Damara's hand in his. "True, but we did not have a proper introduction. And so lady, would you do me the honor of telling me your name."

Again he kissed her hand. Paying no mind to the burns that plagued her hands. Damara bit her lip to keep from giggling like a child. Taking her skirts into her free hands, she curtsied to Clopin. "I am the daughter of Petash and Mala Lovell. I, your majesty, your most elegant jester am the Mistress of the Flames! And Damara Lovell is my name."


	6. Define Healthy

Gillie gaped when he heard his sister's voice echo off the walls of the catacombs; it was so much like mother's voice. He had heard Damara whisper from time to time, but it was rare. But it had been many years since he heard his sister speak with such tone. Clopin looked up at Damara with a broad smile. "The lady speaks! How splendid indeed. Well I must say that your name befits your elegance and beauty, if I may be so bold?"

The smile on Damara's lips faltered slightly, but she masked it quickly as Clopin came back to his full height. He gave her another smile, and then he turned his attention to Gillie. "And you good sir, what are you called?"

Gillie felt foolish playing this childish game, but he played along all the same. "Sire, I am called Gillie Lovell son of Mala and Petash Lovell."

Clopin nodded his approval. "Good form boy, good form indeed."

Damara could not help but laugh at Clopin's over exaggerated voice and gestures. Bringing his attention back to her, Clopin's eye gleamed mischievously. "She laughs!"

Clopin continued to stare at Damara until her face was close to the color of a ripe strawberry. Taking his eyes off her he declared. "Let us push on then. We are close to the Court."

Clopin was true to his word, they reached the Court within the next five minutes. Both Gillie and Damara were stunned at its size. Neither of them had ever seen such a large group of gypsies living together. The looks on their faces drove Clopin to feel a little more than smug. He was proud of the success of the Court, under his father and himself it had flourished.

The trio descended downwards into the throng of people. Clopin called their attention, the gypsies backed away allowing him room to speak. "Gather around! Gather around! Tonight is a splendid night indeed. With every passing day we suffer the wrath and stupidity of the close minded. Tonight my friends! We welcome new comers to our court! I introduce you all to the Lovell Siblings!"

Clopin clasped Gillie's shoulder and brought him forward. "My friends we have ourselves another talented Tambura player!"

The King turned and beckoned for Damara to step forward. Glancing around at the crowd she came up to stand next to her brother. "And we have just been gifted with a woman Fire Tamer!"

At this a cheer went up through the gypsies. Damara did not understand the excitement. Noticing this Clopin leaned in behind Gillie and whispered to her. "Many are afraid to work with fire, due to its destructive nature. Only two men in the Court have built up the gumption to work with it. Fire Tamers bring in more money because their gift is so rare in our neck of the woods."

Damara nodded her understanding, seeing her brother being pulled away by a group of young women she replied. "When will I be going to out so as to earn my keep?"

This caused Clopin to smile. As the crowd dispersed he led her through the Court. Looking down at her legs he stated. "Not until you've gained back some of your weight, you look like a skeleton."

Damara blinked in surprise then she crossed her arms over her chest. "I' am perfectly healthy. Not that that's any of your business."

Her statement caused Clopin to narrow his coal black eyes. Stepping closer he stared down at Damara. "You have accepted my invitation into the Court. And in doing so you have agreed to be one of my subjects, if I tell you not to go above until you've managed to gain back some weight then you will wait until I say otherwise."

At his words, Damara glared up at him. "I don't take orders from self proclaimed Kings. And I've been this thin forever, I am healthy."

Clopin smirked and placed his hands just under her chest, thus causing Damara to yank back. But he gripped her shoulder, keeping her in place. Slowly he ran his fingers along her ribs, which were to the point of being visible even from under her clothes. He chuckled. "I don't consider that healthy, little phoenix, and as for your comment on being a self proclaimed King. That is merely based on a matter of opinion."

Damara pulled away and spat at his feet. Clopin shook his head "A word of advice, if I may? Learn to respect me or you'll regret it."

Ignoring the look of anger on her face, Clopin placed a hand on her waist and steered her closer to the tents. A young woman with dark curly hair came out of one of them. Behind her a goat kid was at her heels. She was a lovely creature, even Damara could see it. She must have men on their knees wherever she goes. The woman came up to Clopin and pulled him into a hug. She then turned her attention to Damara, smiling she said. "You must be our newest member of the Court. Clopin's told me, you are a dancer."

Damara shrugged and replied casually "Of sorts."

Smiling the woman introduced herself. "My name is Esmeralda; you may also call me Esme."

It was then that Damara took notice of Esmeralda's eyes; they were deep shade of emerald green. The name suited her. Smiling Damara also introduced herself. "Damara, my name is Damara."

Clopin grinned, happy to see the little phoenix making friends with his cousin. He had a feeling that pulling her away from her brother was best. The boy caused her to be as cold towards anyone around her. But once away from him, Damara warmed considerably. Clopin waited to leave until Esme led Damara into their now shared tent.


	7. Fan the Flames

Inside the tent Esmeralda pointed over to the second cot to the right. "You'll be sleeping there."

Nodding Damara took a seat and removed the bundle from her back. It clanged slightly due to it containing her fire instruments. Taking notice of a small package she picked it up. "What's this?"

Esme looked up and smiled. "A welcome gift from the two men who share your talents" Damara blinked in surprise, opening the box she smiled lightly. Inside were two black fans, there was no fabric on them. They were crafted with metal, and at the tips were bundles of clothe. Opening one of the fans, Damara twirled it in her fingertips. They had to be the most beautiful things she had ever seen. This had to be one of the most stunning things she had come to own. Carefully, Damara placed the fan back in the box with its companion.

Esmeralda took a seat on her cot. "So, where do you come from?"

Damara was lost in thought for a few seconds. She had not been asked that question for a while. "My mother hailed from Spain, and my father was born here." Damara beamed fondly at the thought of her parents. "My father use to tell me stories of this place. Though it seems it's grown more in size since he last saw it. He would have been so happy to be back in the place of his birth."

Esmeralda watched her; she seemed lost in a world of memories. "What happened to your parents?"

Pulling back from her thoughts Damara sighed. "They died when I was a child."

The other woman looked down. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, Damara replied. "Were you there?" Esmeralda blinked in confusion and shook her head, no. Shrugging Damara stated. "Then it wasn't your fault, you don't need to apologize." Esmeralda couldn't help but chuckle at the peculiarity of her new friend.

The days in the Court passed quickly for Damara. Though she would have preferred to be in the streets paying of her debt, she couldn't help but enjoy being among her new family. The only set back to being surrounded by gypsies that were not her brother, was the fact that she began to feel some shame for her looks. Clopin had been right about her being too skinny, though she would never admit it. And the large scar on her face did no justice to her. Not wanting to disgust the people around her with her misshapen hands, Damara had taken to wearing some old gloves that Esmeralda had been kind enough to loan her.

One of the best things about the Court was the fact that Damara could put some distance between herself and Gillie. Within two days the scratchy sound that accompanied her voice was gone. Her voice had built up its strength and she sounded healthy and not sick.

About a week after arriving in the Court, Damara was out behind her tent. She was testing out her fire fans. She was only wearing her slip at the moment, not wanting to run the risk of her only dress catching fire, especially when she was not completely familiar with her latest instruments. Damara had also gone through the trouble of braiding her hair and pulling it into a bun for a safety precaution, the last thing she needed was a burned head.

As Damara danced, her motions started slow, almost hypnotic. It was difficult to dance without any music to accompany her, but she managed. Closing her eyes, Damara let her imagination run wild with different bits of music. She started with a style of dance that originated from India, called belly dancing. It had been a long time since she had done it, but with the regaining of some meat on her bones. She could do it without the worry of disgusting anyone. For a few seconds her arms moved around her body like caressing water, she had not lit her fans yet. Soon she sped up her movements. Pulling a one handed cartwheel, she snatched her fans and waved them over the open flame of a nearby torch.

Spinning in a circle the fire blurred around her body. Damara kept a close eye on it, extending her arms more. Adjusting herself for when she was wearing her dress, which was bulkier that her slip. Becoming more adventurous, Damara closed the fans and tossed them into the air, and began juggling. Catching them in the right place each time, snatching them she snapped them open. Pulling a front flip, Damara landed on her knees and steadied her breathing. Closing the fans, she put both blazing tips into her mouth and quenched the flames. Spinning up from her knees, Damara curtsied to her imaginary audience. When she opened her eyes, and the daydream had left her mind, she could still hear clapping.

Eyes widening, Damara snatched up her dress and covered her body. Spinning around her eyes fell on none other than Clopin. "Hasn't your mother ever taught you that it's rude to spy?"

Standing up, Clopin shrugged. Watching as Damara put her dress on. When she was about to put her gloves on, he stepped forward, and took them away. Studying them he waved them before her. "Since when do you wear gloves?"

Making a grab for them, Damara huffed up at him. "Since when do you care?"

Clopin held his hand up high, not letting her have them back. "Since you became one of my subjects, now why do you wear these?"

Glaring, Damara jumped and tried again to get them. "Give them back, Clopin!"

He stepped away. "Not until you answer my question!"

Rolling her eyes, Damara snarled. "My hands aren't exactly smooth as baby's bottom. If you haven't noticed _sire, _my hands are ugly!"

Cocking his head to the side, lowering his hands, causing Damara to assume he was giving her back her gloves. But when she reached for them Clopin yanked them away. Seizing her hands before she could pull away, he brought them to eye level. "You say your hands are ugly, no?"

She had no idea what he was up too, but Damara nodded all the same. Holding her hands tightly in his, Clopin looked at her sincerely. "I must say little phoenix, I don't agree with you on that."

Bring her hands to his lips; Clopin brushed his lips along the marred flesh. Relinquishing her hands, he smiled down at Damara and then turned to take his leave. Pausing he called over his shoulder. "You will be going above with me tomorrow; I'll be playing the flute for you. Be ready and dressed." 


	8. Nightmares of Hellfire

Damara stared after him, her stomach filled with butterflies her scared hands burning slightly from where Clopin's lips had brushed them. Sneering, she picked up the fallen gloves and forced them back onto her hands, doing it only in the hopes of spitting his so called highness. She was only here because Gillie wanted to be. If the winters in Paris were gentler, then she would have refused Clopin's offer.

But, her brother worried for her. She had heard Clopin's convincing little speech on the night they came here. She had been awake, and listening. One thing's for sure, the Gypsy King was good at reading people, he picked out her brother's weakness within a minute, and he used Gillie's concern for her well.

A light smirk lifted her lips, as Damara returned to her tent. However, the attempt to cut Clopin with her knife had been no act; she preferred not be touched. Gillie was the only one who could touch her, but not for Damara's benefit, it was for his mostly. It made him feel special that he could hug 'the wild child' as he sometimes called her.

One of the main reason's Damara acted the strange one, was to protect Gillie, without her to 'take care' of, he would have lost his head. Being his sister, Damara was aware that to remain sane her brother required a distraction. And he cared for her deeply; it seemed like the only option. But being in the Court opened doors for the siblings; Gillie could be distracted with the prospect of a wife, and in a time a new family.

This new distraction would leave Damara free to take care of her own needs. She would still be the odd child, the night of her parents' death left her with some oddities that were not an act. For example, the dislike to be touched, Clopin had come close to losing his head moments ago. But the shock held back the urge; no one not even Gillie or Jal had ever been that gentle with her.

Taking a seat on her bed roll, Damara closed her eyes, the nightmares entering her mind like torrid water. Silent tears began to trek down her cheeks. Eyes closed, Damara could see everything as if it happened only a day ago.

Memories caressed her mind.

_**The calm night air, the stars, her mother's arms wrapped around her, it was all so lovely. But it had been the calm before the storm. The wagon behind them suddenly lit up the night with an ungodly fire. The animals tethered to the cart shied, and the wagon tipped. The smell of burning flesh made Gillie vomit. **_

_**Mother snatched both her children and threw them out of the wagon just as arrows of fire nailed the roof, trapping her inside. Screams tore through the darkness; Damara snatched her brother's arm and dragged him through the camp. They came upon their uncle's tent, there was movement inside. Letting go of Gillie, Damara ran to the opening the tent, inside a nightmarish scene was taking place. Her youngest cousin, Bitterblue was screaming in agony, and a man was on top of her, undulating against the small child. Screaming in anger Damara attacked, doing everything in her powers to protect Bitterblue from the sick bastard. **_

_**The monster stood and snatched Damara by the hair, throwing her onto the ground. A demonic smile made his grotesque features even worse. He ripped away at Damara's clothes and began to deflower her. Tears clawed their way from her eyes; the screams for mercy irritated the devil. He unsheathed a knife and pressed it to Damara's cheek, pressing down harder than needed due to the dullness of the blade. "Shut up you disgusting little slut, or I'll fuck you with this!"**_

_**He flashed the knife at her for emphasis. Damara was quiet; looking to her left she saw Bitterblue cowering, eyes shut tight, ears shut to the cries of her cousin, blood running down her inner thighs. She remained quiet only for the little girl. Damara felt the blood running down her legs, feeling the constant pound of the monster. In her desperation, she yanked her arms from her captors grasp and aimed for his eyes. Clawing at them, the man sat up, screaming and cursing, giving Damara enough time to push him out of her. Despite the weakness of her legs, the little girl grabbed her cousin, pulling away from the disgusting monster. They made it out of the tent, running hand in hand. **_

_**Rocks were sailing through the air, aimed at them. Suddenly, Bitterblue shrieked and dropped onto the ground in a heap. Damara grabbed her, dragging her through the open field. But an arrow sailed through the air, driving home right through Bitterblue's heart. More rocks were thrown. Damara dropped the hand of her cousin and ran for the forest that lay just beyond the field. She continued to run until her feet blistered and bled, until she was on the cusp of vomiting up the contents of her stomach. **_

_**She collapsed by a creek, far from the gypsy camp, far from danger, though that she couldn't be sure of. The little girl buckled and sobbed until her eyes were raw, until the wound in her cheek stung with the salt of her tears. Looking down, Damara felt shame as she watched the blood continue to drip from between her legs. With care she lowered herself into the creek, wanting to wash away whatever that dog left on her.**_

_**The next day, Gillie and Jal found Damara wandering, her eyes dead, her body weak. She told them nothing of the taking of her virginity, which would be a secret that she would go to the grave with.**_

Damara opened her eyes; fresh waves of tears ran down her face. Why hadn't Gillie come to help her, did he run away when he heard her screams? She would never ask him that though, what happened that night was never discussed, and Damara wanted to keep in that way. She could still feel the sensation of being torn apart, she still experienced the shame.


	9. Secret Keeper

Hearing movement from outside the tent, Damara wiped away the tears, and steadied her breathing. It was all in the past, what happened, happened. There was no use shedding tears for what Damara lost. Fixing her usual façade of indifference onto her face, she looked at the flap of her tent just as Esme ducked inside. Her arrival made Damara smile. "How was the audience today?"

Esme smiled at her. "Strangely generous, but I lost some of money because the guards showed up."

This caused the grey eyed girl's eyebrows to knit together. "Shit eating pigs, the lot of them."

Her friend laughed. "Well at least I didn't have the misfortune of running into Frollo." This made Damara look down at her legs, which had patches of new skin left over from the scabs. "Count yourself lucky."

Esmeralda set her tambourine on her bed roll. "Well not in the way you are. If Clopin hadn't been above that day, Frollo would have done worse than damn you to hell."

Damara rolled her eyes. "I could have handled myself just fine."

The dancer chuckled. "You just don't want to admit that you are in debt to Clopin for saving your life at least twice."

Folding her hands over her chest, Damara muttered. "The fact that he plucked me out of the streets, does not excuse the fact that he has keeps me in the Court against my will."

Esme rolled her eyes. "He keeps you here for good reason."

Standing up, Damara groaned. "As I said before, I' am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need my brother, and I don't need Clopin watching me every step of the way."

Her friend shrugged. "I think it's nice having people who care."

She scoffed. "My brother only watches me so closely because he feels guilty for not coming to my aid when I needed him most."

The statement was out before Damara could call it back. The two sat in silence. Esme stared at her, watching as her fire taming friend sat back down; shocked at the harshness of her words. Leaning forward Esmeralda gave her an imploring look. "Something worse happened that night?"

Taking a deep breath, Damara met her gaze. "I lost more than my family that night; I lost something that I intended to give willing to the person I deemed worthy of it."

Esme gaped. "You mean?"

She closed her eyes, more tears finding their way down her cheeks. "I do, and my brother left me to my fate. He ran like a coward, he doesn't know, and I intend to keep it that way."

Within a second, Esme was at her side. Damara stared at her. "Do not tell anyone about this. My brother would hang himself or worse hand himself over to Frollo if he knew what his cowardice caused."

Her friend nodded. "I understand, but you do realize you can't keep this locked away forever. Someone else will find out."

Seeing what she meant, Damara chuckled. "I don't intend to marry, if that's what you mean."

Leaning forward, Esme used the hem of her skirt to wipe Damara's tears from her face. "You can't always predict the future, who knows? Maybe you'll change your mind?" 

The two sat in silence for some time; it was neither a comfortable nor an awkward silence. It was just silence. Damara interrupted it by standing and saying that she was going to take a walk on the outskirts of the Court. That said she exited the tent. Oblivious to the fact that Clopin had been standing outside, listening quietly


	10. Horizon Born

Damara sat against the wall of a tunnel, staring at the murky water, the skulls that littered the walls looking to be laughing at her. She just needed to get away, after blurting out something she had intended to take to her grave. Damara was so angry at herself, it hadn't taken much too even say it, it just came out of nowhere, and there was no retrieving it. Thankfully only one person had heard her confession.

Thinking for a second, Damara leaned forward to look at her reflection in the water. All she could see was a girl with plain grey eyes, plain hair, and hideous scars on several parts of her body. Picking up a rock, she dropped into onto her likeness, watching it ripple away.

The next morning, Damara rose before the sun, though she didn't know that she had, she hadn't seen said burning orb for almost a month. She was on edge, and excited. More than ready to feel her freedom again, though the thought of having Clopin coming with her was a bit of a damper on her happiness. It was almost as if he was put into existence for the one purpose of making hers almost unbearable.

Smiling, Damara tucked her fans into the fold her belt, along with a small book of matches. Strapping a worn of pair of sandals to her feet, Damara got off the floor and left the tent quietly, doing her best to avoid waking Esme. Who was still fast asleep, her goat wrapped in her arms.

Damara wasn't the only one awake this early, despite the quiet, gypsies moved about in silence, some of them preparing breakfast and others, like Damara readying themselves for a day on the streets of Paris. Despite her usual nature, Damara was grinning ear to ear. People greeted her as she passed by them, her eyes searching for Clopin, not that she wanted to find him.

Feeling a pair of hands rest on her shoulders, she felt warm breath against her ear. Damara jumped, but the hands held her in place. "Looking for someone chere?"

Grumbling she pulled away from the embrace "Took you long enough."

Clopin smiled his coal black eyes mischievous. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stated. "I see someone is eager for fresh air."

Looking at the tunnel that led to the exit, Damara replied. "You'd be the same way if you were me, gypsies don't do well inside stone walls."

This made Clopin laugh. "Quite ironic seeing that we live inside them."

She shrugged, still starring intently at the exit, desperate to get out. Chuckling, Clopin took her hand in his, Damara's head snapped around, her eyes drilling into his. He didn't relinquish his hold. "Shall we then?"

A smile jumped in to replace the thin line that Damara's lips had formed. She nodded enthusiastically. Clopin gripped her hand tightly. "We'll be the first out; the others will follow us later, so as to not attract attention."

Damara nodded, letting Clopin lead her into the darkness. It seemed like forever before they reached the tomb door. Despite Clopin's insistence on letting him lift the door open, she helped him. Stating that his "pathetic stick arms were weaker than hers," with a bit of huffing and puffing they managed to lift the slate up and off the tomb entrance.

Clopin stuck his head out; it was still slightly dark outside, the sun still having not risen just yet. He looked around; making sure that the graveyard had no unexpected guests. Smiling he looked down at the ever impatient Damara. Grabbing her hand he almost threw her out into the world.

Taking in a deep breath of air, Damara exhaled, reveling in the scent of grass and mud. Noticing a small sliver of sun peaking its way over the horizon, she eyed it, waiting. Slowly, very slowly the sun, the glorious sun breached the horizon, nearly blinding her shadow accustomed eyes. Damara continued to smile, watching as the sun began to dominate the sky.

Clopin looked up from sliding the door closed on the tomb. Damara stood not too far off; she was acting so different from her usual temperament. Ever since she woke up, she had been almost nothing but smiles.

The sun threw her into another light. Damara was no longer gaunt and undernourished. She looked healthy and happy. Drawing closer, Clopin caught himself looking at her eyes. They were glowing and alive, the green shards looking as if they were cuts of precious jade. Noticing Clopin's stare, Damara looked at him. She smiled weakly. Looking down at her feet, she mumbled. "Thank you."

Clopin smirked, putting an arm around her waist, leading her out of the graveyard. He had no idea what she was thanking him for, but he was happy he had done something right by her. If being out made her this happy, he made a mental note to bring outside every day.


End file.
